


Of the Sea

by hannahindie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Implied Smut, Reader Insert, Sam Winchester - Freeform, Supernatural - Freeform, spn fanfic, supernatural fanfiction - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-23 17:57:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17085017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannahindie/pseuds/hannahindie





	Of the Sea

The first time Sam sees her, she reminds him of the ocean. 

Her hair falls in wild, untamed waves, swirling and changing each time she shifts in her seat. She is chewing on her thumbnail, deep in concentration as she reads the book spread out in front of her. She looks up and it’s like staring into the most beautiful tide pools he has ever seen; deep and color changing and full of life. He feels himself getting lost as he watches her and she smiles; oh God _,_ she _smiles_ , and despite being inside a dark library, it’s like the sun is dancing on her lips. They’re full of fire and light, and he wonders what it would be like to kiss her. Would it be soft and warm and safe? Or would it be sharp edges and red hot curves designed to consume him with just the very thought of their skin touching? He isn’t meant to find out that day, but it doesn’t keep him from thinking about her as he and Dean work their newfound case. He may be physically present, but all Sam can think about is messy waves and ocean colored eyes. 

The next time he sees her, she’s a tempest; violent and dark, her eyes the color of an angry sea as she beats against the vampires trying to kill her. She’s beautiful and fearless, a whirlpool of energy as she spins and whirls around them. Sam isn’t sure how she’s doing it, if she even realizes _what_ she’s fighting, but it’s mesmerizing. She’s like a riptide, strong and dangerous and unexpected. He wonders what it would feel like to be pulled under by her. If he’s not careful it will be the end of him, which is almost proven when one of the vampires goes for his throat. Dean jumps in with a clean slice to its neck and looks at him like he’s crazy. Maybe he is. But when Sam looks up, he catches her eye and she smiles. This time, though, the sun is replaced by the full moon, bright and distant and beckoning, and it pulls him in like the tide.

As it turns out, she _does_ know what she’s doing. She’s brilliant and strong; she can dish it out like Dean, she researches like Sam, and she can fight like both. She’s a force to be reckoned with, a hurricane of energy and passion and kindness. Sam is surprised when she accepts moving in with them, but thankful. She’s like a lighthouse, a beacon home after difficult hunts, warm and welcoming, and enough to keep him from crashing into himself when there’s nowhere else to turn. He feels free with her, like a ship on calm water, and for the first time in his life he can see for _miles_. He isn’t trapped in the moment, or in a musty bunker, or surrounded by dusty tomes looking for some answer that may or may not be there. No, he’s free…free to sail from place to place without question, without limitations. It just… _is_. And she’s there, her smile like a sunrise right after it rains; bright and colorful and a constant reminder that there is always a tomorrow.

Sam is driving down an empty road, the windows in the old truck they’d taken from the bunker rolled down, and he can’t help but smile as he watches her. Her eyes are shut, and her barefeet are propped on the dash as the wind rushes through her messy hair. There’s a ghost of a grin playing on her lips, and Sam wonders what she’s thinking about. She’s a perfect storm, unpredictable and dangerous, a phenomenon that could have only been made by the kind of life they lead. Sam believes that even without being a hunter, she would be a cyclone, an unstoppable force that would do whatever she wanted. He sighs happily, breathing in the salty, ocean air, and relishes the fact that for once…they are normal. No hunts, no research, no saving the world.

She opens her eyes when Sam parks the truck at an overlook, and she smiles when she realizes where they are. It’s just them, the perfect view, and the warm blanket that Sam pulls from behind the seat. Neither of them say a word, and it’s one of the things that Sam appreciates the most; they could spend hours in comfortable silence, and both of them would just know what the other was thinking. She moves across the worn bench seat and curls into Sam’s side, and he pulls the blanket around both of them.

Sam is sure that Dean didn’t come on this trip because he knew what it meant, and he appreciates it as he looks down at her; it’s time that she knew exactly how much she means to him. She looks up at him, her eyes like the fiery ocean as the sun sets into it, and he does the one thing he should have done a long time ago. Slowly, carefully, he presses his lips to hers and it’s like he’s gripped by a current. She moves with him, her arms finding their way from under the blanket to around his neck and that’s when he realizes how deep he has sunk.

She’s a siren, but instead of leading him to the rocks to be smashed to pieces, she’s pulling him into her, saving him, keeping him whole. He runs his fingers across her soft skin, every movement like an electric shock, and he can’t get enough of it. The way she moves as she slips quietly into his lap is mesmerizing, and the ease in which she slowly pulls off first his shirt then hers in such fluid motion…he can’t take his eyes off of her. She’s beautiful, a statue carved out of the finest marble to pay tribute to the mythical creature that lures so many to shore.

Their bodies are like the tide, moving in and rushing back out, pushing and pulling, giving and taking. It’s fast and then slow, patient yet rushed. It has taken them far too long to get to this place, and now it’s frantic but also somehow methodical. Searching hands and grazing teeth, seeking tongues and pleading cries…they’re everywhere and nowhere, alone yet surrounded. The setting sun paints her in reds and oranges, and all Sam wants is to disappear in her, be consumed by her crashing waves, swept out to sea and lost if it meant he could stay with her forever.

It’s as if the world stops for them both at the same time and she laughs; it’s like a ship’s bell ringing across the miles separating them from land, soft and bright, a perfect song as she presses her forehead to his. He kisses her deeply again, can taste the salt on her lips, and he smiles against her. She places a shaking hand on his cheek and he leans into it, his eyes closed and chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath. When he opens his eyes, she’s watching him. She’s the sunset to a perfect day, the rising moon reflected on a black ocean, the sound of waves crashing into worn cliffs and echoing through hidden caverns.

She is wild, and untamed, and beautiful.

She is home.


End file.
